Chapter Seventeen: Wicked Stars

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Garmadon hadn't realized his children were so close. If he had, he surely would have done something to help them. He wouldn't have let Overlord hurt them, and he would make sure they were safe. After all, he was just as powerful. He didn't need to listen to some dark master when he controlled the element o power itself.

But alas, he'd been in his tent, unaware of the ninja's plan. He'd been drawn out by a sudden and very loud commotion, and gone immediately to the mine, expecting to find that some warrior had fallen in, but this hadn't been the case. The warriors were gone, chasing down two intruders. Everyone was in their place for the dance that Garmadon had been excluded from. This time, the steps were not familiar and did not come easy. This time, Garmadon realized, he was not a willing participant. He was not the clever, cunning man he'd thought himself to be. He was not the powerful lord of darkness he'd envisioned when he lay awake, longing for the stars. He was just a puppet of a higher power, a pawn to be shifted around the board and eventually, inevitably, fall in the name of service.

All these thoughts and more raced through Garmadon's head as he ran from the mine to find Overlord. His entire train of thought crashed when he saw who else was standing before him.

She was older, that much Garmadon knew. He didn't know how she'd grown so old in so short a time, but he knew who it was. He would recognize those green eyes and golden hair anywhere.

"Lexi?" His daughter looked sidelong at him, her expression unreadable. She was standing in a ring of stone warriors, Overlord hovering above her head. His great purple eye was pulsing and seemed to almost ooze with glee, his entire being trembling with excitement. Garmadon felt a shudder run down his spine at the thought of what he might be excited about.

"Father?" This voice came from behind the warriors, but they moved aside to show the person who Garmadon hadn't noticed before. At the sight of his son, too, being held captive, Garmadon's blood began to boil.

"Take them away," Overlord ordered. The warriors holding Lloyd (and that other girl, Nya, her name was) nodded sharply and began dragging their captives back, ignoring their shouted protests. Lexi turned away from her father and watched them go, her lips drawn in a tight line, her eyes blank and empty. Garmadon felt almost like he was a marionette; his strings pulled at him to reach out for his son, to try and save him, but he wouldn't move. His heart, it seemed, was far too blackened for any act of selflessness.

"But this is too perfect," Overlord cackled suddenly. He sounded like he'd been struggling to hold in a laugh for some time. His laugh was an ugly sound, worse than the warriors rocky language and the way it grated and scraped. "Three Garmadons, all together... and I have only you to thank, my darling girl."

Lexi didn't bother to look at him as Overlord lowered himself before her, casting her gaze instead to the heavens. "You know what you did," he whispered, and Garmadon saw Lexi shudder.

"Overlord," he heard himself say. His voice didn't sound quite like the one he normally used, booming and authoritative. This one belonged to a timid little boy, to someone who Garmadon was afraid to be. "What is this? How did this happen?"

Overlord laughed again, but this time it was dry, teasing. "You have heard your daughter's voice, haven't you? Whispering in your mind, breathing down the back of your neck... I have bridges your minds, Garmadon. I have connected you at the heart, and it has led her right to me."

"Not to you," Lexi said suddenly. She was still gazing at the sky, but her tone made it plain that this was an act of defiance, not fear. "I came to my father."

Garmadon's heart gave a sudden throb, and he was forced to look away. My father. That was not something he'd ever thought he would hear again. He thought back to his goals to take over the world, to plunge it into darkness and shadow. Looking at Lexi, hearing her call him her father... those dreams seemed stupid now. Those dreams seemed like those of a foolish little boy.

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